


Where The Bridge Burns

by tsubisho



Series: sour and bitter [7]
Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon), Green Eggs and Ham - Dr. Seuss
Genre: Alternate Canon, Best Friends, Briefcase Buddies, Found Family, Gen, Improving, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29940825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsubisho/pseuds/tsubisho
Summary: Sam finally gets to meet his mother on her farm. // It doesn't go as expected.
Relationships: Guy Am I & Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham), Sam I Am & Sam I Am's Mother
Series: sour and bitter [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698013
Kudos: 3





	Where The Bridge Burns

**Author's Note:**

> my first ge&h fanfic, just a quick study for the characters (so my bad if its trash.) 
> 
> lol i havent posted in months and boom out of nowhere a geah fanfic. yall im done HHAAHHA

“Sorry, darlin’… but I haven’t an idea what you’re talkin’ about…”

The woman at the door had her lips pursed in a frown, leaning against her door as she looked down pitifully at the short boy in front of her. Birds twittered from the trees, where the leaves were being blown away by the wind.

 _Of course,_ Sam shook his head. _Of course it wasn’t his mother._ His voice was strained and cracking as he spoke, betraying the enthusiasm he tried his best to show. “It’s no problem! I knew… I mean, _we knew_ —didn’t we Guy! You don’t have to feel bad, Miss.” Sam nonchalantly waved his hand, before turning to his best friend, tugging on his wrist. “I guess we should go then, right, best friend? Since we have _so_ much to do!”

Blinking slowly, Guy let out a long sigh and patted Sam's shoulder. “Sam is right… it’s been a long day. Thank you for your time, young lady, but we’d best be off now.”

The lady, Miss, held her straw-hat over her chest, eyes glancing to the peeling paint of the door frame instead of them. It pulled tight, her heartstrings, but she wasn’t a fan of letting out tears. “Of course, dear… please have a wonderful night.” She wished them, closing her door as they walked away.

Both Guy and Sam started their trek back to Sam’s van. Most of the way, Sam had done nothing but crack jokes as Guy awkwardly attempted to laugh, or give some other sarcastic feedback. They both didn’t say a thing about it, but there was a vapidness to it all that even the sounds of the birds’ song couldn’t paint away. The whistle of the wind broke conversations in half, and the both of them did their best to keep ahold of their hats. “It’s pretty windy today, isn’t it, huh?” Sam wiped at his eye with his thumb. “It makes you a little teary… haha! Oh, the things wind can do! I do like it to fly kites… It really wants to take away our hats, too.” Sam finished with a snicker, wiping his eyes another time.

Guy had barely opened his mouth before Sam was running in front of him, “Hey! I didn’t realize we’d get here so fast! Time does fly, doesn’t it! I guess you could say it’s… uh–” Guy stared at Sam as he slowly caught up with him, waiting for the punchline. “Well,” Sam rubbed the back of his head before flashing a grin and turning back to the door. “I couldn’t think of anything to say…”

“It’s alright, Sam.” Guy said, still feeling uneasy as Sam let the both of them inside.

Inside a basket, there was a big rolled-up sheet of paper that used to be tacked onto the wall and a jar of green pins. Sam had joked that they didn’t need it anymore, since they knew where they were going and where his mother was. Guy also couldn’t help but note the other things left around. There had been multiple license plates up on the wall, the first time Sam had even brought him to his getaway of a van. Guy had been concerned, especially considering how much he already knew about Sam being a vagrant, but he brushed that off, and explained that he picked most of them off the side of the road since he saw no one else seemed to want them.

That wasn't really against the law, per se… but it wasn’t exactly lawful either.

Over time, it seemed like Sam had been taking more responsibility for his past, though. And Guy couldn’t really hold it against him to be mad, now that he did his best to do things on his own. Things that didn’t involve taking from his wallet.

* * *

The bed creaked as Guy sat down, to which he huffed. Staring at the recent painting of a Chickeraffe, drawn on one of the few free spaces on the wall, he began to ponder.

They both missed Mr. Jenkins, but if Guy had to pick which out of the two of them he thought missed him the most, he’d have to say it was Sam. It wasn’t a day that passed he didn’t make a reference or joke to the big guy. Though, Sam made up for the missing link between the both of them with his own noisy jokes and individualism. It didn’t erase how much they missed him, but it made them feel better.

Speaking of… it was awfully quiet.

_Way too quiet..._

“Sam?”

There was no response, and Guy scanned the room before standing up. “Sam? C'mon.” It wasn’t as if it was hard to find him; the van was only so small, just one bunk bed and other random necessities. Guy gripped the ladder for the top bunk, climbing up two, and hitting his head on top of the roof. (Which, you’d think he’d learn to stop doing by now.) He let out a painful groan, yet it was at that same moment he heard sniffling. Quiet; you wouldn’t hear it from far away, you’d never be able to. It was just too quiet. But here he heard sniffling, and then he heard the hiccuping of tears.

He tried one last time, voice soft. “Sam… are you okay?” His friend was definitely not okay. Guy doesn’t think there’s a single person who’d be okay after going all this way. It was a stupid thing to ask, but it was the only thing he could think to ask. He was at a loss for words. There was something so unusual about his friend crying like that, about the silence, that it made him uncomfortable, and he couldn’t think properly. There wasn’t a response at first, and Guy was thinking no better than having to just give it up… but then Sam spoke.

With a self-deprecating chuckle, he rubbed at his eyes, still choked up. Guy could barely hear his voice. He was about as quiet as a mouse. “It’s just I’ve… Guy, I’ve waited my entire life for this and I—I was so, so certain that… that it was her… I was so excited…! I was so… so excited to see her again. I thought… I thought… I could hear her say she _really_ loved me. Maybe it was just a mistake. I really wanted to know. All I wanted was—was to _kn—know…_ ” Even more sobs cut Sam off. You’d think someone who was so eccentric would reflect that in their most vulnerable moments. But it was silent. And so was Guy. Oh, how he wished he had the words to say. If only he was as thoughtful as Sam was, he might have an idea of anything to cheer up his friend. If he could just —  
  
Sam turned, painfully staring at Guy. “Guy. Do you… do you think I made it all up? I’ve… I’ve been… making everything, all these stories for so long… maybe… _maybe I am just delusional._ Maybe… maybe there were never even any green eggs and ham at all. D'you think? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have tried…” Sam cut himself off again, turning away from looking into Guy’s face, covering his own with his hands. He let out another muffled chuckle, “Don’t worry about this, alright! We can both be back at it in the morning! We can have some of your—your favorites from here. The—the green eggs from here, I heard they’re amazing… I—I bet they’re not as good as mom’s though!”

There was something inside Guy’s heart, something that shattered at seeing his friend so defeated. And there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could think to say. “I’m… sure they’re amazing. But I—I bet she would have loved the ones you make much more. I… Sam, I don’t think you’ve made it all up. Maybe it was just a mistake? Wrong place, wrong time? We…” Guy dragged his hand down his face, clamping it over his mouth. Son of a yip. He didn’t want to give false hope. But he didn’t want to appear demeaning. Should he really let Sam hold on to this? Was that really the right thing for a friend to do? Sam… he needed to move on. He… “Sam… you don’t… _need_ your mother to love you. You have your friends, don’t you–?”

“You’re _not_ my mom, you’re not _me_ ! You don’t know any of that, Guy. You’ve–you’ve never ever felt… felt like… you—you have a _family_ , Guy! And they, they yipping love you. You wouldn’t—! _No_ . You **couldn’t** understand.” Sam bit back and as soon as he did, wished he hadn’t, taking in a gasp of breath as he began to cry again. _“Oh, c'mon, Sam-I-Am. Hold it together!”_ He mumbled.

“I… I may not be your mother. But, Sam… you have a family too.” Guy sighed. “You have us, don’t you? We’re not just your friends… we’re not just a team… we’re… we’re a family! Just like you said. The I-am-am-I’s. You’re not _alone_ , Sam.”

With a sharp inhale, Sam shook his head again. “Yeah. I’m not… but maybe I need to be.” He glanced back at Guy, who was taken aback by his expression. “Be left alone.”

Guy didn’t feel right at his conscience to leave his friend like this. His mind kept telling him to do something—literally _anything_ that could help—but he just couldn’t think of a single thing. Regretfully, he began climbing back down from the ladder. Back the way he came, left with a dreadful feeling settling in his stomach as he lied down. Closing his eyes and doing his best to fall asleep.


End file.
